


In Looking Back

by BladesAndSwords



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, I never would have thought these bugs would give me feels, Other, and i like it, but here i am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28524807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BladesAndSwords/pseuds/BladesAndSwords
Summary: A one-shot about the Pale King, the Pure Vessel and the bond they shared.
Relationships: The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & The Pale King
Comments: 11
Kudos: 23





	In Looking Back

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic for this fandom! This game is awesome, and so is its lore!  
> I tried to get the facts right, but I apologize for any mistakes I could have made haha.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

He could hear them.

They were tiptoeing behind him, perhaps childishly attempting to catch him off guard and jump at him to surprise him.

He found the idea annoying, but also amusing, in a way he couldn’t wholly understand.

A chuckle almost escaped him, and a part of him tried to persuade himself into allowing the little mischief to happen.

Such behaviors served no real purpose, but they were common between a parent and his offspring.

Just harmless, silly games.

He halted the thought.

The fondness that had seemed so mirthful seconds ago now felt ridiculous and careless.

He couldn’t allow it, never.

Mercilessly, he shredded the idea until no trace of it remained on his mind.

“Stop.” He commanded. The steps behind him ceased instantly, as if his voice had struck the Vessel down like a weapon. “Don’t even think about it.”

Silence loomed over them.

His voiceless Vessel wouldn’t be able to break it.

It was the Pale King’s duty to do so in their stead.

“Don’t make me think choosing you was a mistake.”

It was seldom he felt pain or remorse when giving out orders or speaking out his thoughts. He was a mindful and considerate being. He despised needless cruelty, but he knew better than anyone that a king had to be firm and severe, in both his actions and his words. 

He could show no mercy, not even toward his Vessel.

_What does it matter? They are Hollow. That’s why I chose them. They don’t feel, they don’t think. They don’t truly exist._

Why did it hurt, then?

The impulse to look back and look at his Vessel took over him. He did not want to, but he had to. After what he had said, it was the least his Vessel deserved.

_They don’t deserve anything._

The Pale King kept on walking without giving a single glance to the creature behind him.

He left them there, all alone in the middle of a long, wide hall.

The Vessel did not chase after him.

Good.

That was how things should be.

Why did it hurt, then?

_It doesn’t._

The King told himself. He repeated it endlessly, trying to persuade himself into believing it was true.

Eventually, he succeeded, and all conflicting sentiment vanished from his soul, but the image of the solitary Vessel wormed its way into his mind again.

And there it lingered.

* * *

_I stared at them._

_And they stared back._

_Neither of us could speak, voiceless as we all are._

_A brief, meaningless moment._

_My first memory._

_It didn’t feel good, but neither did it feel bad._

_Yet, a part of me knows,_

_that I should not have looked back._

* * *

The risks were minimal, almost nonexistent.

When the King peeked at what could unfold if he allowed it to happen, he couldn’t see a future in which such action ruined his plans and doomed his kingdom.

There was no true reason to fear or hold back, but regardless of what his foresight told him, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

To be so unwilling and fearful to act was a feeling he was not familiar with.

As king, it was his duty to be fearless and determined in everything he did, but not without being careful.

None of his actions was trivial; each was carried out only after a long moment of mindful thought. And once he had made his decision, he never backed down or looked back.

He had learned that, as long as he was prudent and logical, he had nothing to fear.

As long as he did what he had to do and he did so correctly, regardless of the sacrifices he had to make along the way, there would be no consequences for him nor his kingdom.

Such quality was what made him worthy of kinghood.

It was not wisdom, kindness, diplomacy or power.

Those were all qualities he possessed, but if he were to determine what made him stand out above the rest of his subjects, apart from his ancient nature as the spawn of a Wyrm, the King had only one answer.

“A true king is the one that makes the difficult choices that others are too afraid to make.”

The Pale King looked down to his side. The empty eyes of his Vessel, as dark and vacuous as the Abyss that had birthed them, were there to meet his gaze.

“I do what I must,” he continued, “no matter the cost.”

_You already know, don’t you?_

His Vessel didn’t answer.

It never did.

They couldn’t.

It did not bother the King.

Their silence and their incapacity to fathom ideals were, after all, what inspired him to express such private thoughts out loud in their presence.

While in good terms with most of his subjects, he trusted none of them to be his confidant. He was private even among his Five Knights; even among his Queen.

But his Vessel...

Gently, after staring at him for what felt like ages, they lifted their hand directly toward him. They had grown a bit taller, and if they had wanted to, the Vessel could have reached for the King’s hand and hold it on their own.

They didn’t.

Instead, they waited for him to move and complete the action.

The King knew that was what the Vessel would do. Still, it staggered him.

Not because it had taken him off guard, rather because he still didn’t know what he was going to do.

_The risks are minimal._

His arm emerged from behind his tunic.

His hand trembled, but slowly it began to get closer to the Vessel’s.

_Almost non-existent._

The King retreated his hand as if the air had burned him.

He couldn’t do it.

If he did, he could ruin everything.

What would he do if that happened?

All the sacrifices he had made, they would be for nothing.

All his pain, wasted.

The children he had left behind in the Abyss would have died in vain.

_Not my children. My Vessels._

The King wanted run away, to leave that Vessel behind and not look back, just like he always did. He wasn’t sure where he could go, for it didn’t matter where he hid in his palace, he couldn’t escape from the Vessel.

They always found their way back to him, as if they were his lost shadow.

It was annoying, but deep down, the King did not dislike it.

Had circumstances been any different, had the Vessel been born in a world without the Infection, had they been allowed to be his child, then—

His daughter manifested amidst his thoughts. As if his mind wasn’t burdened enough already, his other child had come to complicate things further.

He had been part of her conception, and once she had hatched, he had been allowed by Herrah to name her.

That was the extent of his role as her father.

Everything should be the same regarding the Vessel.

_That is how things must be._

He began to move away from them.

His attempt to escape didn’t last a single step. The Vessel made sure of it when they held him by the hand he had left uncovered.

Their hand of Void was cold, but not unpleasant or repulsive as the King had imagined it to be.

In the end, that which held him was only a tiny hand.

_The hand of my Vessel._

With a heavy heart, the Pale King looked at the Vessel again, and he discovered they were no longer staring at him with their empty eyes.

They were gazing at the endless landscape that unfolded before the palace’s balcony. Their body was stiff, and their grip on his hand remained firm.

Despite the dozens of thoughts fluttering around his mind, the King expressed none of them out loud. Instead, he did the same as his Vessel and stared into the distance.

_Just this once._

His fingers finally wrapped around their hand.

_The hand of my child._

* * *

_This feeling._

_It’s nice._

_I wonder if this is what I would have felt_

_had I grabbed your hand._

_If I had, would you be here with us now?_

_If this is true, then I’m glad I left you behind._

_I am the Pure Vessel._

_I am the Hollow Knight._

_I am our father’s true child._

_My sibling, am I then cruel?_

_You were already falling when I looked back._

_Maybe you never deserved to be saved._

_All you deserved was to be pushed._

* * *

The deed was done.

It had happened quickly.

It was just as the Pale King had planned. The Vessel, surrounded by chains and trapped in their ruthless embrace, hung above him, their eyes glowing orange with the disgusting Infection they now contained.

It was over.

In that moment, relief and pride were the only emotions the King could comprehend. Fooled by his euphory, he thought his happiness would last forever, just like his beloved Hallownest, now that the blight had been dealt with.

To his shock and dread, his joy was as intense as it was fleeting. The King barely had time to become aware of it before it faded away. What it left behind was a null void in his chest.

It was not sadness, but it wasn’t pleasant in the slightest either.

For the first time in his existence, the Pale King felt lost.

He had succeeded.

He had saved his kingdom and defeated the sickness that some lowly god had thrown upon him and his subjects without a good reason.

What was it, then?

What troubled him and left him feeling so unsatisfied and hollow?

The being above him moved, making the chains that held them to create a soft chime. The King felt as if he was snapped from a dream and forced back into reality again. The first thing that welcomed him was the sight of his Pure Vessel, his one and only Hollow Knight, looking down at him with their infected eyes.

They stared at each other, like they had always done ever since he had taken his Vessel to his palace, so he could raise them to become what he needed them to be.

They moved again; this time, the chains rang louder.

It was then the King realized the source of his discomfort.

Not the Hollow Knight, but the sight of them.

The Pale King took one step back.

His movements remained dignified and precise, even when his soul and heart were a storm he could barely keep in check.

“I told you. You already knew.” The King did not know what drove him to talk. It was perhaps that the silence of his Hollow Knight had never felt so dooming and dark. “We did what we must. This is why you were born. My sacrifice, that’s what you are.”

His Hollow Knight did not move again, but they kept their glowing eyes fixed on him.

They had grown so big and strong, his dutiful Hollow Knight.

Just as he had planned.

That was how things were meant to be.

The King turned his back on them for good, but it took a long moment before he could bring himself to walk. He expected to hear the chains again, moving behind him as his Hollow Knight struggled one last time.

He heard nothing.

The only sound that accompanied him was the echo of his own steps.

The effort the King had to make to keep himself from looking over his shoulder depleted all his strength.

It was the same crushing sentiment he had felt when he had left his offspring behind, locked away forever in the Abyss. He had not looked back that time either.

It had been easy for him. He’d had no desire to ever witness what he had created.

He did not regret it.

He had done so for the sake of his kingdom, and he would do it again if he had to.

He would do anything to ensure Hallownest lived.

No matter the cost.

The King stopped walking. Strange how the thoughts that had helped him remain strong once now felt like repetitive sounds that signified nothing.

He prepared himself to talk, but his voice remained exclusively on his mind.

_Choosing you was the greatest achievement of my life._

Feeling he would collapse and never wake up again, the King took his final step outside the chamber where his Hollow Knight would remain trapped for all time.

The long walk towards the exit didn’t feel real. It was as if he had entered a world of illusion where nothing truly existed, not even himself.

When he finally emerged from that dark corridor, a door shut behind him forever, the three seals of the Dreamers ensuring that nothing could leave or enter that cursed place again.

The King stood all on his own. Just like he had commanded, there was no one there to receive him and witness his deed.

Not his Knights, not his Queen.

_Nor my child._

Their absence struck him with more force than he could have anticipated. Had it not been by a small figure he noticed in the last second, he would have allowed his grief to become manifest on his body.

“What are you doing here?” His voice rang gelid and ruthless.

The child, who had been approaching him, stopped and took a step back as if he had threatened her.

The King noticed his daughter’s bafflement, and chided himself for how he had talked to her; but he was exhausted. It was not that he resented her presence, he merely did not want to deal with anyone else at the moment.

He was starting to wonder if that feeling would ever change.

But that was his burden to bear.

Not Hornet’s.

Even amidst his pain, he was not blind to this fact.

“Let us leave.” He ordered her. His tone, while mellower, was not exactly affectionate. It was pathetic, but it was the best he could do. It would have to be enough for Hornet too. “My lady must be worried about you.”

“Mother.” Hornet approached the surface where the seal bearing her mother’s face was.

“She is gone.” The King stated, putting himself between Hornet and the seal. “She had a duty to fulfill.”

_Just like them._

Hornet gasped softly.

She looked smaller than she had ever done.

“Be proud of her sacrifice.” The King continued, his shadow looming over his daughter. “Now come, and don’t look back.”

Hornet did not move, not until he gave her a gentle push forward. At first, he feared she would react violently, but much to his surprise and relief, she obeyed him without saying a word.

Once, she succumbed to weakness and tried to look back to her mother’s seal, but the King’s hand was there to make sure her face didn’t turn completely. He did so firmly, but not without gentleness; not unlike he had done with his Hollow Knight ocassionally, when they were in need of some discipline.

“Don’t look back.” He urged her.

It was a harsh lesson, and maybe the only merciful way to learn it was if it was taught directly from her father.

Hornet obeyed him again.

Had she always been such a considerate and easy child?

He didn’t know, and he didn’t really care.

His daughter was now walking next to him, struggling to keep his pace.

A moment later, the King felt the caress of a small hand against his own. His daughter’s fingers gripped his palm as tightly as they could.

The King freed his hand easily with an abrupt swing of his arm. His reaction had been involuntary, but also more violent than he could have ever intended.

But the damage was done, and Hornet never again tried to hold his hand.

It didn’t bother the King.

He knew it was for the best.

* * *

_I looked back..._

_My duty._

_My purpose._

_I must fulfill it._

_I looked back..._

_I must contain._

_I am the Sacrifice._

_My hand is empty._

_I looked back..._

_Why didn’t you?_

_I am the Pure Vessel_

_Sibling?_

_I am the Hollow Knight._

_Father?_

* * *

He had failed.

The Infection had not been fully contained.

His Hollow Knight had been tarnished and he was to blame.

Against his better judgment, he had allowed himself to be weak.

Now, Hallownest would fall.

The Pale King had foreseen it, and no matter what he did, this future refused to change.

All was lost.

But he did not regret what he had done. He had acted like the king he was born to be, like the higher being he had been in another life.

If there was no pride to be found in his actions, neither was any shame.

And to prove it to himself, even if he was now little more than a failed ruler with a doomed kingdom, he knew what he had to do.

It would be his last act as the rightful ruler of Hallownest, and his first true act as the father of all the lost Vessels he had locked away eternally in the Abyss.

For the first time, he would look back.

The King stood in front of the sealed gate that kept his sins hidden from the world. He had promised himself to never return to that place. He had made this vow as his Hollow Knight, just a small spawn back then, followed him after being chosen.

Their memory, soured by failure and embittered by the cursed fate he had thrown upon them, had become toxic for the Pale King. He did not dare to think of them for long, and the loss of their memories was no less heavy than their absence.

_You were my Sacrifice, the cost I had to pay._

The Pale King rested a hand on the surface of his own sigil imprinted on the door. It reacted to his presence, and the seal he had put on it began to unravel.

_And I do not regret it. That was the only reason any of you was born. And to prove it, I’ll stand on your siblings’ ashes and scream it out loud for them to hear._

Did any of those creatures still lived?

Was it possible for life to thrive in such place?

It was not improbable or impossible.

Except they were not alive.

They had never been.

They had never been real creatures, let alone his children.

Only his failed, useless spawn.

He would tell them that too. It was not a lie, after all. In fact, now that he thought about it, maybe it was not him who bore the blame. If there was someone in that awful situation who had failed, it was them.

Not his Queen nor himself.

_Just them._

He couldn’t wait until the seal was broken. He needed to shout this truth, even if it remained forever unheard in the confines of that abandoned tunnel.

If he didn’t, he feared his body would implode and turned into ash.

“I failed you all!”

His entire focus shattered at the sound of his own cry. It came together with the phantom sensation of a touch on his hand, the same he was using to break the seal.

It was cold, but also comforting and familiar.

The touch of the Void made him scream in horror and pain. The King fell on his back and crawled away like he was some lowly maggot.

The seal remained unbroken and intact, but the ghostly hand of the Hollow Knight refused to disappear.

The King clawed at his own hand, desperate to rid his body of the memory of the touch of his child. By the time he stopped, he had reduced his hand and fingers to tatters, barely resembling the limb it had been moments ago.

Physical pain had never been a concern for him. He felt it, but not in the same way or intensity as the rest of his subjects.

Yet, the sight of the harm he had inflicted on himself allowed him to realize what foolishness he had been about to commit.

The Pale King had always thought of himself as strong of mind, capable of enduring thoughts and choices that would drive any other bug mad.

And he was.

But what did all that strength serve him now, when he couldn’t even face the memory of his Hollow Knight without losing his wits?

If he didn’t have the will to face the only child he had raised—

_What makes me think I can face those I sacrificed?_

He stood up, clutching his destroyed hand close to his chest. He gave one last glance to the sealed door and turned his back on it for good.

As he walked aimlessly amidst that darkness, he made another solemn vow.

_This is the last time I ever look back._

He wouldn’t ignore his better judgment again. Unsure of where to go or what to do, he kept moving forward, just like his previous self had done.

Perhaps, if he kept moving, he would manage to leave his failures behind and start anew, in another body and another life.

Maybe Hallownest would one day become just a distant dream, a memory of the times when he had been careless and had allowed himself to love.

Or maybe he would just die.

He made a pause.

For the first time since he had existed, tears flowed from his eyes.

“My child.”

* * *

_My sibling._

_I am here._

_Our duty is fulfilled._

_Now it’s time to rest._

_Will you grab my hand and come with me?_

_You would?_

_I’m glad._

_Your hand, it feels nice._

_Everyone’s waiting._

_Let's go back._


End file.
